Lone Star Millionaire (13 page)

“You look tired. I should let you get some rest.”

He started to stand. Sabrina leaned forward and grabbed his arm, then pulled him back onto the bed. “No, you don't. Obviously this is very interesting, and I want you to start at the beginning. Tell me everything and speak slowly.”

Cal hadn't minded when Ada had first mentioned that
Prominence Magazine
had called, but now, sitting next to Sabrina, he felt himself flushing. “It's nothing.”

“You couldn't be more wrong.” She shifted until she'd tucked her legs under her. “Come on, Cal. You can tell me anything. We don't have many secrets from each other.”

He wondered what her secrets were. What did she think about that she didn't want him to know? A couple of weeks ago he would have said he didn't have any secrets from her. She knew the worst about him and still kept coming back, which was one of the reasons he liked her so much.

“Ada called,” he admitted. “
Prominence Magazine
is trying to get in touch with me.”

Sabrina clapped her hands together. “They want to do an article? That's great!”

He cleared his throat. “Not exactly.”

“Then what?”

“Apparently they're doing a special series. The World's Most Eligible Bachelors or something like that. I've been chosen for one of the months. You know, sort of as the bachelor of the month.”

Sabrina could be annoying, stubborn and argumentative, but she rarely disappointed him. This was no exception.

She stared at him blankly for two seconds, then started to laugh. “Bachelor of the month?” she asked, then continued laughing when he nodded.

The hearty chuckles filled the room. She clutched her stomach and rolled onto her side. “Oh, Cal.”

He wrestled with mild annoyance. “What seems to be so funny? I'm wealthy, single, and there are those who think I'm decent-looking.”

She could only gasp for air. “I can't stand it. Are they going to run a profile, complete with statistics and a post office box so you can get fan mail?”

“I don't know, but if you keep this up much longer, I'm going to make you answer all the fan mail and send back a picture with the response.”

She coughed and raised herself up on one elbow. Her face was flushed, her eyes damp from tears. “Oh, my. I haven't laughed like that in far too long. I work for one of the world's most eligible bachelors, huh? So how have I managed to escape falling for your charms all these years?”

She'd been teasing him, so he teased her back. He touched her cheek. “I'm not so sure you have.”

Instead of bursting out into more laughter, Sabrina froze. Her blue eyes widened as she stared at him. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

But the disclaimer came too late. Her shock had been
genuine, as had the flash of guilt. She
had
kept secrets, and one of them was about him.

He didn't know what exactly she felt about him. For all he knew she'd wrestled with a crush for the first couple of days she'd worked for him but had recovered nicely. But he hoped it was more.

“Sabrina.”

“No!”

She started to scramble off the bed. He caught her and pulled her against him.

“Wait. We need to talk about this,” he said.

“There's nothing to say.”

One of his hands rested on her hip. Her T-shirt had pulled up to her waist and he was touching the place where her silky panties ended and bare skin began. She pushed at his chest.

“Cal, I don't—”

“Yes, you do,” he said, cutting her off. “We both do. We have for a while. I want to kiss you.”

She shuddered as if he'd threatened her. Maybe he had.

“Sabrina, I—”

She cupped his face in her hands. “So do it.”

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

T
here wasn't a doubt in her mind as to where this was heading. Sabrina wished she could find the backbone to be strong, to resist Cal and his passion, but it wasn't going to happen. At least not today. She'd wanted him—
loved him
—for far too long. She knew the pitfalls, the fact that he would quickly grow tired of her. She knew that he would break her heart without ever once having a clue as to her feelings. Maybe it was better for that to happen. At least when the time came, she would be motivated to leave. But for now…there was this moment and the magic she felt in his arms.

He kissed her gently, yet thoroughly, brushing his mouth back and forth against hers, as if he had to convince her to cooperate. She thought about pointing out the fact that kissing had been her idea to begin with, but that would mean speaking. She didn't want to do anything that would separate his mouth from hers. Not when keeping them joined felt so incredibly right.

She parted her lips in anticipation of him deepening the kiss, and he didn't disappoint her. His tongue moved inside, exploring, perhaps remembering. She met him, and they stroked each other. The sensations were more intense than she recalled. More perfect. This was Cal, this was who and what she'd always wanted. Even if she'd wanted to resist him, she no longer had that option.

In his effort to keep her from getting off the bed, he'd grabbed her and pulled her close. She straddled one of his thighs, his hands resting on her waist, hers clutching his shoulders. Her breasts hovered close to his chest without touching. She could feel her nipples getting hard, and that secret place between her legs getting wet.

“Sabrina,” he murmured as he moved his hands up and down her back. “You are incredible.”

The words washed over her like a caress. For today, for this moment, she would believe him, because she wanted to. She wasn't foolish, in fact she rarely did anything without weighing the consequences. So she was due for an afternoon of not thinking. While in his arms, she would only feel.

He raised his arms and used his right index finger to trace a line from her forehead, down her nose to her mouth. “Hold that thought,” he said.

She stared at him. “What?”

“I need you to hold that thought. I want to go check on Anastasia to make sure she's asleep, and I want to get something from my room.” His dark eyes burned with passion and intensity. “I know it's a risk leaving right now. Don't you dare change your mind.”

Then he was gone. Sabrina stared after him. He'd left her? Just like that? She slid off the bed and started toward the door.

Some of the need and the desire faded. Maybe it was a good thing, she thought. Maybe she should come to her
senses. This was her boss, after all. Yes, she was planning on quitting her job, but she hadn't yet. How was she supposed to face him tomorrow? As far as career planning went, this was
not
an intelligent move.

The half-closed door opened and Cal stepped back inside. He took one look at her face, crossed to her and pulled her hard against him. “Uh-oh, I knew it would be a mistake to leave you. Unfortunately, I didn't have a choice.” He kissed her until she was once again weak in his arms. He slowly withdrew from the kiss and murmured, “The good news is Anastasia is fast asleep. We're also protected.”

He pulled something out of his jeans pocket and tossed it on the nightstand. Sabrina looked at the small square package. He'd gone to get a condom.

She swallowed. Should she be pleased that he wanted to take care of her or horrified that she hadn't thought of that herself?

She pushed away from him and sank onto the edge of the bed. “I'm way too out of practice to be doing this with you.”

Cal crouched in front of her. “What does that mean?”

He looked so handsome and so damned earnest. How was she supposed to resist him? His mouth was still damp from their kisses. She touched his lower lip and a thrill shot through her. Was it so wrong to want to make a few memories? Realistically she knew they were all she was going to be taking with her. Memories to get her through the night. Would she rather be able to look back on how it was once, knowing she could never have it again, or would she rather just wonder how it might have been?

She traced his eyebrows, then his mouth. He touched her finger with the tip of his tongue and she was lost. Better to know, she thought. Better to remember than to wonder.

She leaned forward and kissed him. Keeping his mouth firmly against hers, he rose to his feet, pulling her along
with him. They pressed together from shoulders to thighs. He was strong and broad, all hard muscles and lean lines. His arousal lay against her stomach. Her throat tightened slightly as she leaned in a little more so she could feel all of that part of him. She loved knowing he wanted her. She still wasn't sure what had changed his mind or why he suddenly found her attractive, but the physical proof of his desire couldn't be ignored.

“Sweet Sabrina,” he murmured against her mouth.

He cupped her head, then moved one hand down her back. On the return trip, he went under her T-shirt and stroked the bare skin at the small of her back. She shivered. Her whole body felt tingly, as if a million tiny bubbles floated through her bloodstream.

There were too many sensations. How wonderful he tasted. The warm, wet stroking of his tongue against hers. The ache of her breasts as they flattened against his chest. His strong fingers tracing an ever-smaller circle on her back, the dampness between her thighs, the hard ridge of his need. It was too much. It wasn't enough. She flexed her hips against him.

He broke the kiss, swore softly and pressed his forehead against hers. “When I was about sixteen or seventeen, I used to get into trouble when I kissed girls. About an hour of passionate making out and I would—” He shrugged. “Lose control. They didn't have to be touching me. It just happened.”

Their breath mingled. His hands tugged at the hem of her shirt and she wanted him to just pull it off.

“I don't understand what that has to do with this.”

He smiled. “Just that I'm in danger of that happening now. It's one thing at seventeen. It's quite another at thirty-four.”

Dear Lord, she wanted to believe him. She wanted to think that she could turn him on that much. It wasn't true, of course. He was just being kind. But it was so sweet of him.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He glared at her. “Thank you? That wasn't a gift, Sabrina. It was the truth. I want you so damn much.”

He clutched her upper arms and pulled her hard against him. His grip was nearly unforgiving and she grabbed him back, just as hard. Their kiss was intense, a sensual assault of lips and tongues. The passion built, as did the heat. A whimper caught in the back of her throat.

“Please,” she managed to say against his mouth.

“I want you,” he told her. “More than you can imagine.”

He released her and jerked his shirt over his head with one strong, fluid motion.

Sabrina stared at his bare chest, at the dark hair forming an inverted triangle, at the sculpted beauty of his muscles. She'd seen his chest before, of course. But seeing it from a slight distance was very different from having it right in front of her. This time, she was allowed to touch.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and let his heat seep into her. Then she moved her hands down…slowly…very slowly. The hair was a cool and ticklish contrast to his skin. Muscles rippled under her touch. She stroked up a little, then continued the journey, pausing to let her fingertips trace tiny circles on his nipples.

Instantly the two points hardened. He caught his breath. “Is that what it feels like when you're touched there?” he asked.

She looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“It feels great. If I'd known what it was going to be like, I would have requested it sooner.” At her continuing confusion he shrugged. “No one's ever touched me there…like that before.”

Sabrina felt a thrill of satisfaction. She'd worried about measuring up to the other women is his life. She didn't consider herself ugly, but she wasn't an eighteen-year-old, either. Cal seemed to prefer spectacular women, and she was simply average.

But maybe it wasn't just about appearance. She had other things to offer, apparently things those women hadn't thought of.

She flicked her nail over the taut peaks. “So you like it.”

“Yes, I—”

She bent forward and kissed him there, then stroked her tongue against his skin. He swore under his breath and jerked hard. “You're determined to make me embarrass myself, aren't you?”

“Of course not. Although I wouldn't mind if you did.”

“No. I want this to be great for both of us.”

He touched a finger to her chin and drew her upright. When she had straightened, he turned her gently until she had her back to him.

“Stay still, just like that,” he murmured, then kissed the nape of her neck.

Shivers rippled down her spine, and goose bumps erupted on her arms. He moved to the curve by her ear, tracing it to the neckline of her T-shirt, then up to her jaw. His warm breath contrasted with the dampness his open-mouthed kisses left behind.

Strong hands rested on her hips. He moved them around and up, sliding from her waist to her ribs to her breasts. He hovered slightly below for a few seconds. She tensed in anticipation. Her breathing increased; she felt her nipples harden. The ache intensified. She
needed
him to touch her or she wouldn't survive.

“Cal,” she breathed.

“What, lover?”

“I…”

“Tell me.”

“I can't.” She didn't dare say the words. What if he changed his mind?

“Tell me what you want. Or if that's too hard, show me.”
He stepped closer and brushed his arousal against her derriere. “You have proof that I want you. I'd like to know the same.”

At first she thought he was teasing. She spun toward him, determined to scold him for playing at a time like this. But when she saw his face, she knew he wasn't kidding. Doubt flickered in his eyes. The fire nearly hid it from view, but she knew him well enough to sense he was serious.

If he'd wanted to reassure her, he couldn't have picked a better way. Knowing that he was also a little nervous about the whole thing made her own self-doubts much easier to bear.

“Is this different?” she asked. “Am I different from the other women?”

“Of course. They were just people I dated for a while. But you and I—” He shrugged. “I
like
you.” As if liking was significant. Maybe it was.

“Oh, Cal, you are the most difficult man.” She cupped his face and raised herself up on tiptoes so she could press a kiss to his mouth. “Yes, I want you. Better now?”

“Some.” His expression turned wicked. “I'd like proof.”

She thought about the hard points of her nipples. He could see them through the thin cotton of her T-shirt. But there was other, more graphic proof. Her panties had been wet from their first kiss. Did she dare?

This was, she reminded herself, Cal. She doubted there was anything she could do to shock him. They would have only this one time together. Maybe it was time to let go, to just experience the moment.

She took his hand in hers and drew it to her belly. She slid his fingers lower beneath her panties until he tangled in the red curls. She was wet and swollen. There was no way he could miss the signs of her arousal.

He didn't. When he touched her there, he sucked in his breath. “You feel great,” he murmured, then lowered his mouth to hers.

While they kissed and his tongue brushed against hers, his fingers provided a sensual counterpoint below. He explored her, discovering secret places, the tiny bud of pleasure, the waiting heat that would soon welcome him. He dipped inside, going deep, then rubbed against the slick walls. He circled the swollen knot so gently and so perfectly she made a half cry, half moan in the back of her throat. Her thighs trembled, her knees buckled and she had to lean against him to keep standing.

He tore his mouth away. “I can't believe how much I want you,” he said, then picked her up and set her on the bed.

Before she could lie back, he tugged her T-shirt over her head and pulled off her panties. She didn't have time to be embarrassed. Even as the first self-conscious thoughts formed, Cal was reaching for his belt. To be completely honest, she admitted she was far more interested in seeing him naked than she was concerned about him seeing her.

He kicked off his shoes, then pushed down his jeans and briefs in one quick movement. As he bent to pull them off completely, he also removed his socks.

And then he was naked. Tall, lean, powerful and very male. She reached for him. He grabbed her wrist. “You can't,” he said. “I swear I'll explode if you touch me there.”

She tilted her head and pretended genuine concern. “You know, Cal, I've read some articles and I understand there are some techniques that can be used to help with that problem.”

He drew his dark eyebrows together. “I don't have a problem.”

“I know it's difficult for a man to admit that everything isn't perfect in the bedroom, but sometimes—”

He lunged for her. She tried to scramble away, but he was quicker. Before she reached the far side of the bed, he had a hold of her ankle and was steadily pulling her back.

“Cal! No! Stop!” she said between giggles.

She tried to kick him, then realized they were both naked and she was exposing herself in ways she normally tried to avoid.

He knelt on the bed, flipped her over, then straddled her thighs. “So I have a problem, do I?”

The promise of retribution in his eyes made her squirm. “No. I don't know what I was thinking. You're perfect. Really.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. You say that now.”

He tickled her ribs. She wiggled and twisted, all the while laughing and trying to catch hold of his hands to make him stop.